so bloody short for most people.
It's ... "
The rest was noise.
"I'm sorry?' said Pascoe.
"I said, it's a matter of four or five days for many of them, so if they get held up here for half a day or even a few hours, they see a substantial chunk of their holiday disappearing. And they get mad. Now, I've checked as much as I can, and if my memory is correct, that particular day it was thick. Hardly anything got off till the early hours of the next morning. But it was a late-night flight you were interested in, wasn't it?"
That's right."
"Not that that makes any difference if I've got the right day.
Everything would have piled up. There'd be bodies lying around everywhere."
"That's what we're interested in,' said Pascoe drily.
Grummitt looked puzzled, but continued, ' course, as you'll realize, even in normal conditions, after all this time it's unlikely anyone would recall your Miss.-whatsitgirling? - but in circumstances like that, it's impossible." "Flight lists? Customs?' suggested Pascoe without hope.
"No use, I'm afraid. It's too long ago. Contrary to popular belief, no one stores up great sheaves of paper for ever. Do you know what flight she was supposed to be on?"
"No,' said Pascoe gloomily.
"Not to worry,' said Grummitt, trying to cheer him up. ' if you did, it probably wouldn't help. Everyone would be desperately trying to jump up in the queue, trying to get an earlier alternative flight. It'd mostly be families, of course, and they would stick together. But someone alone would stand a better chance. She was alone, you say?"
"Yes. We think so.' Pascoe realized guiltily he had not really thought about it at all. Had Dalziel? Naturally.
"What do you mean, an alternative flight?"
Another metal cylinder full of fragile human flesh lifted itself laboriously into the air.
"I'm sorry,' said Pascoe. ', please." "I said, if you were due on a flight at midnight and shortly after midnight the mid-day flight finally got away - to your destination of course - you'd obviously be interested in getting a seat on it. Or you might even take a flight to another airport and hope to move on from there."
There wouldn't be any record kept of people changing flights?" "Oh no. Not now,' said Grummitt with a laugh.
Pascoe scowled back at him. But a new idea was forming.
"What about baggage? Your baggage is checked in for one flight. You change to another. Does your baggage get shifted automatically?"
"Yes. Of course. It's a matter of weight, old boy. Someone may pick up the ticket you've vacated and he'll have baggage too."
"Oh,' said Pascoe, disappointed.
"Mind you, I'm not saying that baggage and passengers never get separated. Especially in conditions like the ones we're talking about, anything's possible. But they'd end up at the same destination. Unless the passenger changes destination as well as flight."
He laughed again. His cheerfulness was beginning to get on Pascoe's nerves.
"So you can't help?' he shouted through the incipient uproar of another jet.
"Afraid not, old boy. Have you tried the Austrians? They probably keep lists for ever. Very thorough fellows. Or travel agents?"
"What?' screamed Pascoe.
"Travel agents. Probably someone fixed it all up for her. It might even have been a charter. Perhaps they had a courier running around, ticking off names."
The noise became bearable. It's too early in the morning, thought Pascoe. What else haven't I done?
"You've been very helpful,' he said to Grummitt as they walked out together through the reception area.
"Sorry I couldn't be more useful,' said Grummitt. ''s it all about?
Or must I just watch the papers?" "I wish I knew what it was all about,' said Pascoe. I'll watch the papers with you."
They passed the Giant Super-Size Unrepeatable Offer. Grummitt nudged him.
"No wonder they built Jumbo jets, eh?' he said.
"You can say that again,' said Pascoe lasciviously.
Grummitt with a look of polite resignation began to say it again.
Superintendent Dalziel
It's ... "
The rest was noise.
"I'm sorry?' said Pascoe.
"I said, it's a matter of four or five days for many of them, so if they get held up here for half a day or even a few hours, they see a substantial chunk of their holiday disappearing. And they get mad. Now, I've checked as much as I can, and if my memory is correct, that particular day it was thick. Hardly anything got off till the early hours of the next morning. But it was a late-night flight you were interested in, wasn't it?"
That's right."
"Not that that makes any difference if I've got the right day.
Everything would have piled up. There'd be bodies lying around everywhere."
"That's what we're interested in,' said Pascoe drily.
Grummitt looked puzzled, but continued, ' course, as you'll realize, even in normal conditions, after all this time it's unlikely anyone would recall your Miss.-whatsitgirling? - but in circumstances like that, it's impossible." "Flight lists? Customs?' suggested Pascoe without hope.
"No use, I'm afraid. It's too long ago. Contrary to popular belief, no one stores up great sheaves of paper for ever. Do you know what flight she was supposed to be on?"
"No,' said Pascoe gloomily.
"Not to worry,' said Grummitt, trying to cheer him up. ' if you did, it probably wouldn't help. Everyone would be desperately trying to jump up in the queue, trying to get an earlier alternative flight. It'd mostly be families, of course, and they would stick together. But someone alone would stand a better chance. She was alone, you say?"
"Yes. We think so.' Pascoe realized guiltily he had not really thought about it at all. Had Dalziel? Naturally.
"What do you mean, an alternative flight?"
Another metal cylinder full of fragile human flesh lifted itself laboriously into the air.
"I'm sorry,' said Pascoe. ', please." "I said, if you were due on a flight at midnight and shortly after midnight the mid-day flight finally got away - to your destination of course - you'd obviously be interested in getting a seat on it. Or you might even take a flight to another airport and hope to move on from there."
There wouldn't be any record kept of people changing flights?" "Oh no. Not now,' said Grummitt with a laugh.
Pascoe scowled back at him. But a new idea was forming.
"What about baggage? Your baggage is checked in for one flight. You change to another. Does your baggage get shifted automatically?"
"Yes. Of course. It's a matter of weight, old boy. Someone may pick up the ticket you've vacated and he'll have baggage too."
"Oh,' said Pascoe, disappointed.
"Mind you, I'm not saying that baggage and passengers never get separated. Especially in conditions like the ones we're talking about, anything's possible. But they'd end up at the same destination. Unless the passenger changes destination as well as flight."
He laughed again. His cheerfulness was beginning to get on Pascoe's nerves.
"So you can't help?' he shouted through the incipient uproar of another jet.
"Afraid not, old boy. Have you tried the Austrians? They probably keep lists for ever. Very thorough fellows. Or travel agents?"
"What?' screamed Pascoe.
"Travel agents. Probably someone fixed it all up for her. It might even have been a charter. Perhaps they had a courier running around, ticking off names."
The noise became bearable. It's too early in the morning, thought Pascoe. What else haven't I done?
"You've been very helpful,' he said to Grummitt as they walked out together through the reception area.
"Sorry I couldn't be more useful,' said Grummitt. ''s it all about?
Or must I just watch the papers?" "I wish I knew what it was all about,' said Pascoe. I'll watch the papers with you."
They passed the Giant Super-Size Unrepeatable Offer. Grummitt nudged him.
"No wonder they built Jumbo jets, eh?' he said.
"You can say that again,' said Pascoe lasciviously.
Grummitt with a look of polite resignation began to say it again.
Superintendent Dalziel
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